


Simulation One

by sexuallyphanbiguous (bluecookiecarstairs)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Drabble, JUST, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Phandom - Freeform, and phil is a lil shit, dan and phil duelling, im probably gonna expand this someday, no plot really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:58:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9306272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluecookiecarstairs/pseuds/sexuallyphanbiguous
Summary: In which Dan and Phil are two secret agents in training having a simulation battle, and Dan is feeling really competitive. Also transformable weapons because why not.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collab reposted from my tumblr written with my friend, Ace, who helped me a lot with the fighting sequences. She doesn’t have a tumblr, sadly, and she still hasn't revealed to me her AO3.
> 
> This is also my first uploaded fic so I’m not expecting it to be much good when I read it again three months from now.
> 
> \- Theo

Both of you are in a training sim together, not for the first time that day. It wasn’t for class or anything, it was just boredom due to everyone else you knew being on a field job. You laugh as he decapitates three consecutive targets; right after your shot had just hit another one right between the eyes, no less. Taking a few steps back, you lift your bow again.

“This isn’t a competition, Dan,” you chide, nocking another arrow and letting it fly, killing a target running toward your partner from the back.

He raises his eyebrows. “Level up,” he says to the system, ignoring you, and the scene around you resets.

He switches to his daggers, charging at a nearby target, but just before he could stab it, it explodes in front of him, showering the ground in pixels, and leaving the two of you facing each other. Even six meters apart you could tell he was a tad wound up. You lower your bow, just about ready to crack up at the absolute shock on his face, when he walks toward you, scoffing, “What? You wanna go, Lester?”

For a second, your brain short circuits, and you just stand there, not quite registering the challenge. Then, it clicks, and you just smirk. This isn’t the first time Dan’s gotten a bit too wired up, but it is the first time in a while you’ve felt like humoring him. You take steps toward him, until you’re standing no more than two meters apart. “You want to fight me? You know you’ve got nothing to prove to me, Howell.”

He lifts his head. “That just makes is better for me when I win.”

But that won’t happen, you think.

“Deactivate enemy simulations.”

“Activate arena landscape.”

You scoff inwardly, So that’s how you wanna play. The scene around you shifts drastically, and you find yourself standing in the middle of a rectangular court, glass walls on all four sides. It looks just like the real arena in the bunker, but in here neither of you can get hurt for real; scars and broken bones are only temporary.

“Three.” You lift your bow.

“Two.” He readies his stance.

“One.”

A cloud of black smoke erupts, and your reaction time is slightly too slow to catch him slipping away. Typical. Rolling your eyes you crouch down, folding your bow down into a box and tucking it away into a pocket. You feel a vambrace click around your right arm as an extension of your sleeve. Both arms are raised to cover both your torso and face.

The smoke dissipates, but needless of that, you know Dan well enough to pretty much decipher his next move. In a split second, you lift yourself up, gliding easily and spinning yourself around, stabbing into the air.

He’s dodged it by a centimetre, emitting a low whistle as he evades the hidden blade. It zings overhead, nicking his shoulder in the process. Observing the single trail of blood traveling down his shoulder he says, “Careful now Phil, what happens if you accidentally kill me?”

You give him a small smile, before stepping back again.

“My, my, so serious,” he taunts once more before lunging, once again with a sword in his hand, daggers safely tucked away.

You evade with ease, turning around, now with a balisong in hand, as Dan catches himself and his sword picks itself apart and reforms into a metal choker around his neck. He drops down into a crouch; one foot under his torso and the other elongated, supporting his stance, one hand resting behind him. In a fraction of a second he pushes off with the leg under his torso, launching himself in the air, his hip twisting as he delivers a roundhouse kick aimed for your ribs.

I’m 6'2, Daniel, you think as you stagger back nonetheless, the kick managing to hit your hip.

Your left hand swings back unintentionally, brushing against the arena wall and you suddenly realise how close you are to the edge. You shift to your left, as he follows suit to his, and you circle.

You smile. “Nice hit.”

He smirks, daggers now in his hands. “Thanks.”

He steps forward, and you read his movements far too easily. He’s getting way too over his head. You grab his forearm, and his eyes flash with an obvious shock. He’s definitely getting too cocky. You twirl him around, and his back hits the wall, his left arm pinned where your hand is. You lean in far too close, until you were only inches apart.

“I win.” You say after a while of stunned silence, then you pull back, leaving Dan there, frozen in place.

He’s still there, even after the simulation turns off, and he finds himself standing in the middle of the plain glass simulation room.


End file.
